KNIGHTS AND KNAVES Koroduma, Abuja, 5:50pm; Friday, 11th July Adolph Chukwudi, stubby, overweight, fortyish, but looking like an overfed schoolboy, with a facial expression that frequently, and against sound judgment, creased into an impish smile, trudged up the winding, gentle slope that led to his own side of Koroduma Village in the heart of Abuja. Koroduma Village was one of those numerous slums that nestled in the heart of highbrow areas of the Federal Capital City. In these slums, several low income earners who had converged in Abuja for a cut of the fabulous national cake achieved a perverse, almost mystical sense of belonging and fulfilment; for they saw themselves as denizens of the same neighbourhood as the rich and the powerful. In this case, Koroduma Village straddled the hills and valleys overlooking Asokoro District, as if taunting its rich and classy neighbour to reach out its dainty hand to push it out of existence. Like Gishiri Village in Maitama, Koroduma Village is the pin that pricked the moral conscience of the Establishment, for in no other city had the contrast between poverty and affluence been more glaring, more crying, having been found on common grounds, as to draw more than passing analyses on the State-run television. . . *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ** . . . Two days later, Adolph was in Ahmad’s office. “You sent for me, sir” Adolph said. “Yes, I did.” “Well. . .?” “The D.G. called me some minutes ago,” Ahmad said tonelessly, like a man devoid of emotions. “As a matter of fact, he instructed me to issue you with a query.” Adolph sat rigidly on the edge of the chair, gripping its armrest as the first signs of queasiness hit him. “Query?” Adolph croaked. “Correct.” Ahmad replied quietly. “But, that can’t be right,” It was more of a statement than a question. “O yes it is. It appeared the man was not amused with your stunt. Your little joke must have rubbed off badly on him.” “Ah! But that wasn’t fair now.” “But, nothing is fair in this life.” “Even in my honesty –” “Honesty? In helping him stash away his loots from this organisation?” Ahmad cut in, almost angrily. “Loots? Who said anything about loots?” “There you are! Where do you think those monies you lodge into those bank accounts come from?” “From the bequests his wife inherited from her late father, and also from the returns from the investments he has made and the royalties his publishers pay him, and his patents” “Tales by moonlight.” Ahmad retorted. “Those funds, if what you just said was right, should have gone directly into his bank accounts. . .” 2014 ©All rights reserved Excerpts from “Knights and Knaves” from THE MATERNITY WARD AND OTHER STORIES
Posted on: Sat, 13 Dec 2014 18:20:10 +0000
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